Up Under the Sky
by Luna Imper
Summary: 100 drabbles about the characters of the Twilight saga sparked by various prompts. Latest: Sink
1. Sunrise

A/N: I haven't written fanfiction in forever. I actually have another incredibly long _Twilight_ fanfic, but I have no idea if it will ever be done. It is about half way done and I have written sporadically on it for a year and a half now. Ya…Anyway, this is a grouping of 100 (supposedly) drabbles that relate to 100 prompts taken from the LJ community 100situations. I'm not officially a part of it in fear that I will then commit and never do and also because I am actually taking various prompts from different tables and not really completing one table like I should.

I have no idea when I will update this. Luckily for you guys (if you like my work that is), most of these will be under 500 words (who knows, I may feel particularly inspired and write a ton for a couple of prompts) and so I will be writing them faster than say my 16,000+ word oneshot I'm also semi-working on. As always, please review, I'm always up for compliments/criticism. I appreciate it a lot when people take the time to tell me what they think.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_, not I.

**003. Sunrise -**

"Edward? Edward, what are you doing?" I was surprised, no doubt about it. It was a little odd for Edward to be so transfixed by the view outside of my window. It was also odd that I would wake up so early. It must have been before dawn for the sun had yet to rise. I knew he could see much better than I could, but I still didn't know what could be so great outside.

"Bella, come and look." He didn't even turn to look at me as he said it. Something must have been going on.

"Alright, alright. I'm coming." I got up out of my bed and went to stand next to him.

"Do you see it?" Edward seemed so eager for whatever it was. I saw absolutely nothing. I was completely and utterly clueless as to whatever it was he was fascinated with. If there was something out there, it must have been just as dark as the night itself and must have been just as seemingly unmoving – I really saw only dark outlines of trees.

"No, Edward. I really have no idea what you are talking about. Just tell me what you want me to see."

"Ah, but that would ruin the surprise of it. Just keep watching." I knew Edward's eyes were much better than mine, so I just hoped whatever it was would move slowly enough and with enough purpose to let me see it. I was making out only the slight movement of the wind blowing the trees. It was a great night with no rain, my favorite type.

We must have stood there looking out the window for five minutes. I looked over at my clock – 5:47 AM. It was way too early to be standing waiting on something that was not watchable. I was just too tired.

"Edward, did I miss it? I have watched and seen absolutely nothing. I mean, I've just seen the wind blow the leaves in the trees and –"

And then I knew exactly what he wanted me to see. It was fantastic. The colors lit up the sky as if an artist had all of a sudden swept them across a canvas in one brushstroke. It was beautiful. But there was something even more dazzling.

I looked to my right to see Edward slowly become his sparkling self as the light slowly moved up into the window and up his torso until it finally hit his face. It was possibly the most amazing sight I have ever witnessed.

"So Bella, did you miss it? Did you see anything?" His teasing eyes would never grow old.

"Edward, I will never see a sunrise in the same way ever again."


	2. Haunted

A/N: For the 10 people that follow this, thanks for your patience! (haha – I'm in a way glad because if I had hundreds like "Album Leaf", I would feel so bad for not being able to update often) I am in my senior year in high school and luckily have now been accepted to college, so I have one thing off my back, but my IB finals are rapidly approaching (AH!). So, um, who knows when I'll update again?

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_, not I.

**092. Haunted -**

Hauntings all begin with some dreadful means and there are no exceptions.

I didn't know why I was there, but it seemed right. And know I believe more than ever that I was right. I was in the clear.

It was **he** who didn't seem right.

I watched her pine away for months on end with nothing to go on but some finite hope that he would come back. That he would come and take her into his arms and never let her go ever again.

I know that's what I would do if I had the chance.

But it isn't me. I see that in her eyes. I see the way her hope struggles to firmly grasp that last thread at the end of the rope before she will go tumbling into the dark, murky water. She has already been in that lake of sorrow and she found one way out. Why should anyone, least of all she, have to lose their grip on this hold and tumble back in until they maybe grab hold one more time or ultimately take in so much water that they only find themselves unable to push the water from their lungs one more time.

Her color's coming back in her cheeks, her eyes are brightening up, her hair and skin are looking just healthier overall.

But she still lacks that spark that just says, "I'm Bella and I'm here." Instead, she seems as though she is trying to be two places at once and failing miserably.

You can't look forward if you never stop looking back.

When she gives me that smile, I feel my heart do a back flip and I know I'll do anything she asks. I know I'll be the one sacrificing this green love that may never mature because she is haunted by a love that will never give up the ghost.

If she gives me that chance, I will run up and take it, even if it means scaring away the spirits of days past. Just give me that chance, Bella! I will make all your nightmares disappear and the plug with be pulled. Your lake will drain and you will have no need for some fraying rope to hold on to. Give me a chance! I could give you land to set your feet on with assurance of it never flooding again.

But instead you chose to live in a haunted lake filling with water so fast that no dams can hold it back. No levees will stop the flood. Just leave your haunting and come with me.

Hauntings all begin with some dreadful means and there are no exceptions. But they end with the hope of never coming back.


	3. Burn

A/N: So, I guess my readership has dropped to 8 now? Haha, that's cool. I'm happy for any passerby or a loyal reader. I actually really like this one (the metaphors were really fun to write) and you see so few things from Charlie's point of view, I figured it was high time. He deserves a little light.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_, not I.

**039. Burn -**

The leaves burned so brightly in their fall colors I was sure I had stepped out into a blazing fire. The hues of orange, yellow, and red encompassed the yard from the sky to the ground. Yes, unfortunately the ground. Better rake those later.

I sighed not because of death and decay that fall ultimately symbolic in the natural world but instead because of the death and decay I was to see within my own house. Bella had started out so tempered and seemed as though her mold was impossible to break no matter the reheating and recasting of the metal that constructed her. But then she burst it as suddenly as lightning ignites a brush fire. She was with **that boy** and she burned. She burned so brightly it seemed as though I had on sunglasses to shield myself from the light of the fire.

But then I distinctly saw the smoke. I smelt it so strongly that I had to rip away my sunglasses and suddenly I felt the heat of the blaze to the point where I wondered where Bella had been able to survive it herself. But she did – with my tempering.

It should have worked. I didn't want her to stop burning (who really wants just smoldering coals to keep them warm) I just didn't want a wildfire. However, what happened was out of my control. Her fuel source suddenly was extinguished and she was left with absolutely nothing to burn. Bella had no spark. She had nothing left but the dust of debris to try and keep the memories of a great blaze previously.

I tried to strike the flint, but it never worked right. My gentle breaths to coax along a few sparks never quite reached their target and instead I was left with only flutters and sputters of a once great inferno.

Yet, seemingly beyond my wildest dreams, the flint changed hands and she gained a little fuel. A true friend, that good Jacob, took the initiative and was trying to stoke the small flame for as long as he could.

But then the cause of the great blaze and its destruction came back. And if an inferno could describe the phenomenon before, Hell would be a closer metaphor for what occurred afterwards. No water seemed to douse the flames, there was no lack of fuel, and it seemed to magnify daily.

I just wanted my daughter to grow in a healthy way. I just wanted her to experience every happiness – in a seemingly fit way. But now it seems I have overcast her mold. She seeps through the cracks and demands for more freedom. She doesn't want the mold. She wants to keep on burning until she reaches heaven.

So I take up the rake and clean away the decaying leaves, aware that soon I will be moving such chores indoors.


	4. Whisper

A/N: Thanks to Dark-Wiccan-Goddess and EdwardCullencArAzY for reviewing. I always always really appreciate reviews, no matter how short or long.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_, not I.

**063. Whisper -**

I wanted to think for so long that you would eventually go away – you would just be a whisper in my memory as you grew old and died. I wanted my life to continue – unshakable, predictable, and eternal. But then again, I also wanted you.

You walked into class that day. Yes, I'd heard it in all the boys' heads as they pass – _Wow, that's Isabella Swan?_ I'd see plenty of gorgeous girls in my life before, I'd heard plenty of lusty thoughts on them – I'd been through it all.

Well, except for the whole falling in love part.

Your blood sang so loudly to me that day. I thought it was impossible for it to be so clear, so resonant, so _touching_. It felt like you had reached out and pricked whatever was left of my soul. You made me become so much more concerned about my soul. It was so unsettling. I had been this great being – so different, so distant, so defined that even my attempts at humanity were only enough to bring me down a few notches. I was still worlds away from the rest of the world, calmly only using my gifts to make sure our survival would endure and as a way to differentiate the hours of the day with a stifling human society, knowing that I would never be one of them again.

But you drew me out. You drew me out the moment my ears seemed to become deaf.

At first, with your posture so defensive and your aura so shrouded, I thought maybe I wasn't straining hard enough – maybe your thoughts were only whispers. Maybe your blood was singing so loudly to me that I couldn't turn down the cacophony and hear you.

But it didn't work. I found out that even if I wished for everything about you to be whispers, the volume wouldn't go down. There was no mute. Seeing you, hearing you, oh God, talking with you, it was voluminous! But your mind was off-limits – a special mute for me and the rest of the world that instead made the grossest sound of all: silence. But I knew you weren't whispering even in there. I had to think that you were screaming in agony over the fact that you had to sit next to me, see me, you had to HATE me. I took off to Denali to get over the noise, and maybe reduce you to a whisper. I thought I had it under control, I thought I could make it.

But it didn't work. You came on even louder. It was as though shouts where emanating from you when you walked by. Even someone thinking about you would send me off and I would be stuck with the blaring moments that I am forced to always remember. I realized then that they never would fade to whispers. How could I forget my nature and think I could suppress such deep thoughts and feelings and hope that I would forget or only have to deal with occasional ruminations? How could I?

And now, I'm willing to pay the price to be stuck with shouting for the rest of our days. I want to constantly be in your cacophonous world and to have to sort out the mess to figure out everything about you and not be able to pick it out of your head. I love your mind's roaring wall, your blood's shrieking song, your body's clamoring call – it's all you. You – the greatest bellow of all.


	5. Cancer

A/N: Okay, so this will probably be the last one for a little while. I'm starting college next week and well, I have a very demanding major being in architecture, so I'll have little time to even work on my other classes, let alone fanfiction. Enjoy this one though – it was fun trying to incorporate all of the deadly sins and it was really really fun writing from a different perspective. I'm so used to Edward (oh my gosh, I only seem to write from Edward's perspective – I guess I just find him too easy), so this has been a fun exercise.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight, _not I.

**025. Cancer -**

"Remind me why we are doing this?"

"Come on Rose, it's not a big deal. We've got to help Bella out."

"Right…help her out."

It is not as though I hate her. I mean, we talked and I think she really understands, or well, has a better understanding of why I am the way I am. I may not be human anymore, but that does not mean that the worst cannot come out of me. Even if it is a deadly sin.

Jealousy.

That's right. No matter how much she found it hard to believe, I am terribly, horribly, irrevocably jealous of Isabella Swan because of her humanity.

Yes, I have Emmett who I love dearly. I have great beauty, style, and can fiddle with cars to my heart's delight…

But I'm not human. I'm some creature who uses the lives of other creatures to sustain my own.

And they can't kill me. They cannot evade me. I could make even the strongest fall.

"What – are you afraid she's going to bite your nose off your face and you'll be left with some scar? Come on, stop messing around."

I want to help her out. I want to be a good future-sister-in-law. I want to be good, I want to subjecting Bella to my wrath, I want to stop being so greedy, I want to stop lusting after a life I can't have, I want suck up my pride, I want to stop being jealous. Damn it, forget all that – why am I such a glutton?

I want to be human.

But I'm not human. I'm some creature who uses the lives of other creatures to sustain my own.

And they can't kill me. They cannot evade me. I could make even the strongest fall.

Why am I so prim, so proper yet so hurtful? Couldn't I have avoided turning out this way? I mean really, who would have chosen to act like this?

Then again, who would have chosen to be me – be a vampire?

Oh wait, I can answer that one.

Somewhat intelligent, but ironically even more idiotic Bella Swan.

"Rose, if you don't get in the car now, we're going to have to run there instead."

I am a cancer.

I use people so much of my life. I take from them until there is nothing else for them to give. I am not a parasite. I'm not some foreign entity that all of a sudden pops up out of nowhere. All the writers got that phrase wrong since the 19th century.

No, I was born of the body of humans. I was created by them, nourished by them, loved by them. I did not invade their lives coming out of nowhere.

Something else tampered with me. I did not want to be this way, but it happened and they can only reverse me by killing me. But my death is slow and painful for more beings than just me.

I am a cancer.

And even cancer cells can be jealous of those normal cells that outnumber them. And even cancer cells can be taken aback by a normal cell that attaches and desperately wants to be taken over, putting up no fight like those other poor cells.

"ROSALIE HALE! If you don't get in this car right now, I'm going to take all your stuff away and you'll have no access to the garage at all for at least 50 years. Period."

"Oh, alright already. I'm getting in Emmett, I'm getting in."

Can we add sloth to that list too?

I think I've got them all covered now.


	6. Sink

A/N: So, I'm back after a year – terribly sorry but school definitely rules my life. I spend sometimes 80+ hours a week in studio (no exaggeration), so I really don't have time to sleep, I once didn't eat for 6 days – as such I just don't have time to write, even if I want to do so. I don't know how I feel about this one, but since these are really just practice for me, I decided to finish it and put it up anyway. Thanks so much though for reviewing broken-fallen-angel-soul, HungryLikeTheWolf19, and Sarah. I really do appreciate every single review I get.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight, _not I.

**085. Sink –**

I used to wonder if there would ever be enough time in the world for me to understand him, but I now know the answer. I am afraid I will never find myself when I come out of this – I am for certain that I will not be the same person. He filled a void within me that I never knew I had – a black hole that never seemed to have enough light to make itself really known. He came along as this beautifully crafted star, one whose internal fire flared so brightly that I was caught immediately. His gaze only served to attract me like gravity, a gorgeous gravity.

I just wanted to sink in it all.

His manner was so strange that day – so distant that I could have stood on Pluto and felt more warmth. I have never felt so cold in my life, even after moving to here from my sunny oasis. I have never felt so alone.

I am sinking too fast to ever catch a breath of air again I fear.

I do not know that I could have really taken a proper good-bye though – he was too much my source – I relied on him so much for what he me, and the black hole that exists inside me. I have never felt so keenly that black hole – I do not really know if I knew it existed until then, but I am sure it has been there. That black hole is growing now – I feel it take me over cell by cell. I feel only a shadow of myself as I mechanically live my life, or whatever life is at this point. It is a bunch of meaningless actions that I must perform when all I really want to do is crawl inside myself and sink deeper and deeper into the hole until it swallows me whole. I don't even have the glimmer of him left – he took away any physical memento, any stardust with which I could run my fingers through.

If only he had sunk his teeth in that night…

I do not think I will ever understand him, even if I was allowed more time with him. The paradox of his cold warmth, his shining darkness, and his satisfied hunger – I want to stop thinking about him but I cannot. I want to stop dreaming about him, but I cannot. I wish sometimes that it really was as he said – like he never existed – but it is only for a millisecond. It was too good, too intriguing, too invigorating; I have never felt so alive.

I wish I could sink only into memories and never come out.

I am afraid I will never stop sinking. I am afraid I will never stop thinking about him every second. I am afraid I will stop dreaming. I am afraid I will never come out. I am afraid the basin is too steep for me to climb alone, and the drain is far too attractive to let me loose.

This sink is too big even for stardust to clog up. I am going to need a star.


End file.
